Not Even Death
by The Marauders' Quill
Summary: Sirius realizes his feelings for Remus, but is he too late? SR slash.


**Author's Note: By now you know what's mine and what's not. I got the idea for this story from one of a different fandom on livejournal. It was beautiful and I thought I'd make one for S/R. It's not as good as the other, but I had to try. Slash warning.**

Sirius "The Heartthrob" Black hated dances. Too many girls. Everywhere. Whatserface's pink talons had been clawed into his arm for the past five minutes as she fluttered her long lashes in what she seemed to think was a seductive manner. He looked down quickly, risking meeting her eyes, to see tiny droplets of blood forming where her nails pierced his fair skin.

Whatsername on the other side of him just wouldn't stop touching him; playing with his hair, running her fingers down his neck, laying her head on his shoulder, etc. She was giggling ridiculously and louder than the music: some pop sound by some dumb pop band. Everything was dumb at the moment. Or shitty. These girls were dumb. This song was shitty. Life just seemed fucked up.

He supposed he shouldn't complain. Guys were shooting envious glances toward his dark corner with the 16-year-old Venuses.

Sirius started. Hold on. He was Sirius bloody Black! He loved women, dances, women. Why was he thinking these thoughts? He looked suspiciously at the paper cup in his hand. James had poured it. That had to be it. He looked over at James and couldn't look anymore.

His best friend sat off to the side gawking at a pretty redhead dancing with a group of friends. Her smiling almond shaped green eyes met his and faded quickly to a look of disgust. Lily Evans: perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect behavior, not-so-perfect home life, but Sirius knew how that went. How did she do it? She could stand up for Peter (who had gone home to visit a Grandmother in Saint Mungo's) and Snape and still be loved by everyone. James especially.

The only Marauder Lily actually seemed to like was Remus. She tolerated them all, sure. Remus was the only one she actually called her friend. Sirius could see why. He definitely got the best grades, quiet (in public), generally cheerful (though life had wronged him greatly), he had good taste in music (he and Lily both listened to some muggle band…the Beatles or whatever), and Lily had no idea that Messr. Moony was the mastermind behind several of the quartet's finest pranks. On top of all this, Remus was, well…cute. His hair wasn't long, but it wasn't short either. It was light brown, but appeared blond when the sun set. His pale, thin form his strength and athleticism. If he would show off some of those scars, Whatsername and Whatserface would be in the common room with him instead. At this thought, Sirius found himself glad that this wasn't the case. He looked surreptitiously at the paper cup again.

A picture popped into Sirius' head. A familiar one. A pair of round brown-gold eyes. Grinning, laughing, playful eyes. They were intelligent and penetrating, but soft and gentle. Remus' eyes. Sirius didn't try to put it into words-he didn't pretend to be any sort of hotshot with a quill, but he thought that that Remus would always be the one he would remember.

A curious thought leapt unbidden over these other thoughts. James, the trouble maker with Lily, the Golden Child. Sirius, the bad boy, with Remus, the good boy. The good STRAIGHT boy, Sirius chided himself. He was tired. Besides, who knew what was in that drink?

He excused himself as politely as possible, feeling dizzy. James briefly ripped his eyes away from Lily to give his friend on odd stare.

He wasn't sure how he made it out of the Great Hall, up seven floors, and into the Gryffindor common room, but he did. Remus was sitting in his favorite battered armchair by the fire. The occupant of the chair looked as battered as it did. The fire burned low. Remus looked up only when Sirius plopped heavily in the seat across from him. They sat in silence for a few moments.

"So how was it?" Remus asked in a somewhat hollow tone. Sirius shrugged.

"Nothin' special." He responded. "Rather be here." _With you._ His companion said nothing, but gazed into the flames. What was wrong?

"What's up, Moony?"

"Nothing."

"Really."

"Really really." How could someone sound frustrated, sad, angry, and empty all at once?

Sirius looked at his friend. Really looked. His brown locks were almost as untidy as James'. His white hands were wrung together. He seemed even skinnier than usual. It was two weeks before the full moon. Too far away for that to be the cause of his crumbling health. Why hadn't he charmed his scars properly? They were visible, but just barely. Perhaps it had something to do with his red eyes and the way his shoulders sagged. The Remus he knew was always careful to stay strong and collected in times of distress. Seized by an idea, Sirius paled and stood. Jaw tight, tears contained, praying desperately that he was wrong, he sat partly on the arm of the other chair and partly in the space left by his nearly skeletal friend. He gently lifted a bony wrist and turned it over slowly, dreading what he might see. Remus made no move to stop him.

Fresh cuts. Not werewolf ones, either. Some were still bleeding.

"Gods, Moony." Sirius croaked before his tears mixed with the red on his friend's arm. It took several seconds for Sirius to realize that Remus' tears were intermingled with his own.

"I-I'm so-sorry, Sirius." Sirius threw his arms around Remus with very un-Sirius behavior. He felt guilty as sparks of delight of being so close glowed hot on every spot they touched.

"I should've stayed with you. Gods, I'm such a prick…"

"N-no…that's not…"

"What is it then? What in Hell's name-?"

"I-I…"

"What? Remus, just tell me!"

"I love you, dammit!" Remus tore into the dormitory.

Sirius sat for a beat, dumbstruck. It was totally clear now. What was worse than watching the one you love, love someone else? Remus had plenty of opportunities to be with girls, but Sirius had thought that Remus' lycanthropic part of him had been what stood in the way. He had done to Remus on a daily basis what Remus refused to do to him. What had he done? He was dumb. Shitty. Fucked up.

Padfoot's senses were suddenly overpowering. Sirius strained to hear. No sobbing. Just an ominous dripping. He smelled blood. Sirius knocked over the armchair and barreled up the stairs. He tried the door. Locked.

"Remus! Moony! Open the door!" Sirius cried. "Please…" He pulled out his wand. It took several tries because of the choking tears, but soon the door lay in splinters. Sirius dashed to Remus' bed and tore the curtain off in his panic.

There he was. Red sheets. The hideous substance dripped from his slightly parted lips into a dark puddle on the floor._ What had he done?_

"Remus…Remus…don't! I love you! Please Remus…" Sirius gathered him in his arms, covering himself in the precious blood.

Remus' eyes opened a little and he smiled. Sirius lifted his lover's chin and their lips met. He felt a piece of him come to life. Another died. It was their first kiss. And last.

"I love you, Sirius." Those were his last words before he shuddered and Sirius felt both of their hearts stop. The only difference was that his would beat again.

"I'll always love you, Remus."


End file.
